


where we came forth, and once more saw the stars

by airplanewishes



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Family Feels, Forgiveness, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Romance, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airplanewishes/pseuds/airplanewishes
Summary: Joe buys Booker a book and learns to forgive.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Everyone, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Everyone, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 306





	where we came forth, and once more saw the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Dante Alighieri's Inferno

Joe isn't sure of what he's doing. He glances around. Andy is outside, leaning against the wall across the _libreria_ , a cigarette in hand. She's chatting with some random stranger, who's probably asking for directions. Nile is by the art section, checking out some art books, her brows furrowed in concentration. Beside her is Nicky, whose gesturing shows that he's explaining something serious about whichever artist's book Nile is holding. Joe smiles, unable to help in, and slips in between the self-help and religious books towards the back, where the rare books are.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. It's been a couple of months ago. They'd traveled to Amsterdam the first opportunity they got after the incident in London, not wanting to stay a moment longer than necessary. Normally, they would've gone their separate ways, especially after such a stressful mission that'd gone sideways in every way possible. Andy would've been out of there to who knows where and Nicky and Joe would've been off to some country's countryside. But Andy wanted to stay together this time. Whether it was for Nile's sake or because she just wanted them as close to her as possible, Andy never said. Joe appreciates it anyway. He agrees that they should be together right now.

So yeah, they were in Amsterdam. Joe and Nicky had wandered through _Boekenmarkt Op Het Spui_ , a flea market, on their walk one random Friday. It was the perfect timing too because Nicky wanted to get Nile this first edition Auguste Rodin art book as a welcome present to the family. They were looking around and Nicky saw a battered illustrated copy of The Divine Comedy with handwritten notes in the margins and offhandedly commented that Booker would love it. Joe remembers frowning because Booker betrayed them and had no rights receiving any kindnesses from any of them. At least, not yet. It had only been a few days since they left him in London.

But that comment stayed with Joe. And now that they're in Rome, he still couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd looked it up on the Internet and he knew there was an 19th century bound copy in the original Italian of Dante's Inferno. Joe reaches the back and sees it behind a glass case, with it's beige-gold-ish spine, the red coloring on top with Inferno written on it in gold letters. He just knows that Booker would love it.

Joe sighs, leaning his back against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed on his chest as he stares at the book. He really shouldn't buy the book. He shouldn't even be thinking about it in the first place. Just like how he shouldn't be thinking of Booker at all. Booker doesn't deserve any of it, the book, Joe's thoughts of him. They went through too much because of him. Booker had put their newest member in immediate danger. He'd gotten all of them captured to be poked and prodded. Andy almost died.

And yet. Joe rubs his beard, agitated. And yet, Booker is family. He himself had pushed for a hundred years of exile because there had to be a price for the gravity of what he'd done. But he'd seen the look on Andy's face and he'd felt the way even Nicky had hesitated. A hundred years is a very long time to be alone, especially for someone like Booker, who's been suffering from loneliness for close to 300 years. Still. Booker has to realize that trust can't be returned by a mere apology.

Joe hears shuffling behind him and he startles, hand moving to the small, but handy pocket knife in his pocket. He sighs in relief when he sees that it's just Nicky, who snickers, clearly enjoying having sneaked up on him. Nicky stands beside him, mimicking Joe's position, resting his back on the bookshelf. They don't say anything for a few moments. Joe is holding his breath for some reason. He's not sure why he's not saying anything about the book, about Booker; not sure why he hasn't said anything. Joe supposes he just doesn't want to seem like he's going back on his word on Booker. Because he's still pretty adamant about it.

"That looks like a nice copy of Inferno," Nicky remarks. He squints a little. "Edward Marsh?"

"Yes," Joe confirms, pursing his lips.

Nicky turns to him with a smile. He knows what it's for. Of course he knows. "You should get it," he says softly, pressing a quick kiss to Joe's lips. "I'll be right outside with Nile and Andy." He turns to go, but Joe reaches out and grabs his hand.

Joe hesitates. "I don't know if I should," he confesses.

Nicky cups Joe's face and kisses him again, this time longer. "I think you do, though, _hayati_ , my life," he whispers, his lips moving against Joe's. He kisses him again and then pulls away. "I'll be outside," he tells him with a smile and then walks out of the bookstore.

Joe glares at Dante Alghieri’s book.

He buys it.

  
  


Joe slips away to Marseille. He figured, since it's only an hour and a half flight, he'd get away with the excuse of having the day to himself. He does that sometimes anyway, they all do. They slip away individually and just take walks or go somewhere by themselves. Nicky smiled at him and gave him a kiss after breakfast when Joe told him of them plans for the day, saying he'd do some reading or maybe tutor Nile on his Italian, much to her dismay. Andy just waved him off.

Armed with a 19th century-bound Italian copy of Dante's Inferno and some pastries from a bakery he'd passed by, Joe wanders around Le Panier, Marseille's oldest quarter. He'd overheard in Andy's most recent conversation with Copley that Booker had moved from Paris to Marseille after two months of staying there from London. Figures that Booker would want to stay here, always wanting to hold on to the past. Joe could only hope that he wasn't making a fool of himself for traveling such a distance, although Rome to Marseille isn't really too far from each other.

Walking around, Joe gets distracted by a pottery store. Everything looks so pretty and colorful that he has half a mind to buy some bowls when he's startled by a throat being cleared, a familiar one. He turns around and sees Booker through the entryway, standing on the street and frowning at him. Joe walks out of the shop, heart thudding in his chest. Maybe it's a mistake that he came. Booker, longer hair falling on his forehead, doesn't look happy to see him. This thought, in turn, makes him angry, though. If there's anyone here who shouldn't be happy to see the other, it should be Joe.

Joe makes a face at him when they come face to face.

"You're losing your touch," Booker comments, taking a step back. He looks up and down the street.

"You mean because you thought I didn't know you've been following me since Les Delices Du Panier?" Joe retorts, rolling his eyes.

Booker's lip twitches, almost lifting up to a smile. But then he sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets. "What are you doing here, Joe?" he asks.

"I can't come to Marseille?" Joe returns. He knows he sounds defensive, but he doesn't want to admit to Booker that he's here for him. Not yet. Even though it's painfully obvious.

They stand there for a while, not saying anything. Booker stares at his shoes or the ground. Joe looks at Booker in his simple jeans and white shirt and thinks that he looks good. He looks awake and sober, the most that Joe has seen him in a while. Joe bites the inside of his lower lip. Maybe Booker is trying this time.

"I live just around the corner," Booker says.

Booker bought an entire apartment building because he didn't want to be disturbed. Being who they are, Joe understands. It's hard to create a connection with anyone who isn't like them. It's not advisable because it's going to hurt eventually and because it can be unsafe. Joe feels a pang in his chest as he thinks of the hundred years that they've sentenced Booker to. Rubbing his chest, he takes a deep breath. All he needs to do is make sure that Booker is living well and give him the pastries and the book. That's it. And then he can go.

Joe wrinkles his nose at the dust as they climb to the top most floor, which is where Booker's decided to stay because there's a bit of a view at the top. When they walk in, Joe is pleasantly surprised. Booker goes straight to the window and opens it, showing a view of the sea. It's a small space, as expected of most French apartments, but it's charming. It has actual furniture, for one, mostly wooden, which makes the place homey. There's a couch with pillows, a coffee table, a bookshelf with actual books, and there's a television. The kitchen has pots and pans hanging above the stove and the cupboards look like they're stocked. Joe puts the box of pastries on the counter and looks around. It seems like there are two bedrooms that both have proper beds.

"This is nice," Joe comments, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

Booker smiles a little, shrugging. "What better way to start getting your life together than by living in an actual home, right?" he mutters.

Joe averts his gaze to the bookshelf, not sure of what to say. Now that he's here, he realizes that he really didn't think this through. Frowning at something, he puts the bag where he's carrying the Inferno down and walks to the coffee table across the couch. He bends down and picks up a battered dark green book. On the cover is a drawing of a man, along with the words The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri on top. Joe turns it around in his hands. It looks even more worn out than the time he and Nicky saw it in the market. Sucking in a breath, he flips it open and sees the notes on the margins. There are newer notes, too, one that he imagines Booker has added. It looks like a book that has been picked up, opened, read and written on again and again. Joe presses his lips together because he knows that Booker must have this book on him all the time and the thought makes his chest ache. He continues flipping through it. On the very last page, there's some more handwritten notes, newer, freshly written and then... _To Booker, Love Nicky_.

Joe traces the word love with his thumb. He smiles, shaking his head a little. Of course Nicky would do this. Of course Nicky didn't hesitate to buy this and send it to Booker immediately. Of course Nicky has forgiven Booker in a few short months, something Joe is still grappling with. Suddenly overwhelmed with the love he has for Nicky and his big heart, he turns around and finds Booker watching him with furrowed brows.

"You can take that back," Booker offers, voice rough. "I, uh, I'm sure that got sent here by mistake."

Joe just looks at him for a few seconds and then he puts the book back down on the coffee table. He makes his way to the counter, opens his bag and takes the copy of Inferno out. He breathes deeply and then hands it to Booker. Booker's mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Joe shakes the book before Booker even reaches out to take it.

"What...?" Booker rasps, staring and turning the book in his hands. He looks at Joe, who blinks away the tears in his eyes. "Why?"

"It's just a book," Joe manages to say. He turns around and zips his bag up. Why is this so hard? Joe's known Booker for over 200 years. He's seen him grow up with them. They'd been through some tough situations and seemingly impossible deaths and they've overcome all of it. This is hard, but it's also been a year, and Booker's his brother. He's family. This shouldn't be so hard. He waves dismissively at the box of pastries. "I also got you some--"

Booker hugs him. He drops the book on the counter and wraps his arms tighter around Joe. "I'm sorry," he whispers, bowing his head and pressing his face to Joe's neck, as if wanting to bury his apologies there. "I'm so sorry."

Joe closes his eyes, his breath hitching, at the warmth of Booker's body on his back. He lifts his hands and touches Booker's hands, squeezing them. "I'm sorry, too," he says, voice soft and quiet. He leans his head against Booker's and then twists a little so he can kiss his head.

Booker lifts his head, eyes wet with tears, sadness, and apologies. Joe turns in his arms so they could hug properly, Booker hunched towards him, his head back in Joe's neck, his arms around Joe's waist. "I tried," he starts. He hiccups. "I'm trying," he corrects himself.

Joe pulls back, cupping Booker's face with a hand. "I'll try, too," he tells him. "Let me help you."

Booker bows his head, shaking it. "I don't deserve it," he responds, voice breaking.

"Hey," Joe says, suddenly upset with himself for having brought on more pain to Booker. He pats his cheek. Booker lifts his head and meets his gaze. "Of course you deserve it," he declares. "Of course you deserve our help. You've always deserved it." Maybe this is where they went wrong. Maybe they weren't able to show Booker just how much he means to them, how much he is valued, how important he is to the team and to their lives. "I'm sorry if we never--if I never made that clear," he continues. "I'm sorry if I never showed you or told you that you matter to me."

Booker shakes his head once more. "No," he insists. "This is on me. Not you. None of this is your fault."

"This is my fault, too," Joe bites back. This is why he's been so angry, almost to the point where he thought he wouldn't be able to forgive. Because this was partly his doing. How could he let Booker think or feel that he was alone? "I should've seen it. I should've seen you and your pain more. I should've listened. Instead, I was too focused on other things, on Nicky, that I didn't--"

"I would never want to take your focus from Nicky," Booker cuts him off, pulling away from their embrace. "You guys are--it's different. You guys are special to each other."

Joe grabs Booker's hand before he moves too far away from him to reach. "Book, you're special to me, too," he tells him. "Nicky and I may be different, but you and I, what we have isn't any less special." He pulls him closer, the tips of their shoes touching. "I'm yours, too, Booker, just as much as I believe you're mine," he asserts, looking into Booker's eyes just to make sure he understands. "You're ours. Mine."

Joe tilts his face upward and presses a kiss to Booker's lips. He then starts leaving gentle kisses all over Booker's face, on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin. "Do you understand," he goes on, "how much you mean to us? To me?" Booker swallows. "I wasn't just angry because I was scared for Nicky or Andy or Nile. I was also angry because we let you down, because I let you down and I--" Booker cuts him off with a kiss, just another press of lips to lips. And Joe understands that this is what Booker's needed all along. He just wanted some affection. He just wanted to be loved. "I love you, okay? We love you."

Booker nods. "Me too," he returns gruffly.

They hug again, their arms tight on each other. Joe squeezes his eyes shut in an effort not to cry when Booker, hesitatingly, turns his head and gives the side of his head a long kiss. He pulls away slightly and Booker's kisses find their way to his face, his beard. He starts laughing when Booker starts kissing his neck.

"Nicky is not going to want to share you," Booker says, later on, as they're hanging out in the kitchen after snacking on the pastries.

"There's plenty of me to go around," Joe announces with a wink.

"I don't want sex," Booker clarifies, cheeks red.

"I'm offended," Joe huffs, pouting a little.

"Just..." Booker hesitates, blush darkening.

"Hey." Joe reaches across the table for Booker's hand. "No sex," he agrees with a warm smile. Booker clears his throat. "Maybe that is something I can't give," he muses. "But I'm here for everything else, a listening ear, a hand to hold, a shoulder to lean on, someone to cuddle with. You name it, I'm yours."

Booker coughs a little. "What about... does this mean I can come back or...?"

"I wouldn't mind it," Joe tells him. Booker's eyes widen at him. Joe smiles and shrugs. He's made up his mind the moment Booker apologized. He's going to forgive him and he's going to make this work. They can start over. "But I probably should run it by the others because--"

"What, you mean you haven't decided it yet?" a voice from the apartment doorway says.

Andy is leaning against the door, a smirk on her face. Nicky and Nile are standing beside her. Nile, with a giddy grin on her face. Nicky, with a soft, fond look in his eyes.

"Did you really think we wouldn’t figure out what you were up to?" Nicky speaks up, eyebrow raised.

Joe stands so fast that he knocks the chair to the floor. Andy's smirk grows.

"Well?" Andy presses.

"Listen--" Joe starts.

"It's okay," Booker interjects. "I can finish the hundred. What's ninety nine more years?" He glances at the floor before looking at all of them. "It's the least I can do."

Joe's brows furrow as he watches Booker withdraw back into himself. He looked so happy and light just a few moments ago. This cannot be. All that progress, no matter how minute, shouldn't be thrown away. He turns to the others, readying himself to persuade the others somehow to take Booker back earlier than planned. Maybe Booker could just move back with them to the same country, just so he's not so far away. Joe takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to start when he sees the looks on Andy's, Nile's, and Nicky's faces. There's warmth, joy, fondness. They already know. They've already taken Booker back, have been wanting to ask Booker back. They've been waiting for him.

Joe closes him mouth and pouts when they all laugh, sans Booker, who looks up in confusion.

"I think Joe has something he wants to say," Nile pushes.

Joe makes a face at them then turns to Booker. "Would you rather stay here or come back to Italy with us?" he asks him.

Booker's face crumples and he turns away from them as he cries. Andy crosses the room and takes Booker in her arms. Nile sits on the couch and pretends that she's not crying too. Joe looks to Nicky and stretches his arm for him.

Nicky kisses Joe. " _Hayati_ , you did so well. You're so brave," he whispers to his lips.

"I took so long, _vita mia_ ," Joe returns, kissing him back.

"You got there. We got there," Nicky counters with a gentle smile. "That's what matters."

Joe pulls away and he and Nicky take a seat beside Booker, who laughs at something that Nile, who's finally joined him and Andy at the dining table, says.

Booker turns to Joe, eyes wet and warm and full of gratefulness. He takes Joe's hand and presses it to his lips. " _Merci infiniment. Ça me fait tellement plaisir_. I'm so happy," he says, glancing at each of them in turn.

"Don't mention it, _mon cher_ ," Joe tells him. Booker blinks with surprise at the term of endearment and then he's blushing and turning away.

"This is going to be so much fun to watch," Andy proclaims with a contented sigh.

Joe laughs as Nicky chuckles beside him. He kisses Nicky's cheek. " _Grazie di cuore_ , Nicolo."

"My Yusuf," Nicky returns. "I love you."

Forgiveness, while not easy, is necessary, Joe thinks. Especially for them who have no one else but each other. It's all they have, along with time. Joe sighs in contentment as he watches Booker be so relaxed around them for the first time in a while. Booker seems happy. They're all going to be okay.


End file.
